


Secrets and Lies

by mandylou67



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:45:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2298599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandylou67/pseuds/mandylou67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set sometime between ep.8 The Well and ep.11 A Magical Place. <br/>I wanted to explore what would happen if Phil Coulson picked up the Asgardian Staff!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets and Lies

SECRETS AND LIES

 

May was down! The supersoldier had hit her from behind and she was now in a heap on the floor. He was armed with the Asgardian Staff weapon they had recovered some months ago. Coulson aimed the i.c.e.r and fired his last bullets, taking him down just before he moved in to finish her off. He ran to her side, his heart was racing. 

“May, May, I’m here!” 

No answer. He felt for a pulse, it was weak. She had a nasty head wound and was out cold. He can’t lose her now, not after he just got her back. He loved her. He had to protect her.

They were trapped in an abandoned warehouse having received a tip about some important artifacts, one of them being the Staff, that had been stolen recently. Word was that Centipede were behind the thefts and this fact alone had caused a large amount of concern. Coulson and his team had been sent to investigate. But the mission had gone sideways, the warehouse was guarded far more heavily than expected and the supersoldiers were armed and ready for them. It had been a trap. May and Coulson were separated from the rest of the team and were cornered in a back room by several guards.

He only had seconds to make his next decision. The Staff was lying beside him where it had rolled when the guard he’d shot fell to the floor. Another soldier was heading towards them and he had to protect her. He knew what picking it up would mean but he was out of options. He grabbed the Staff. Nothing could have prepared him for the assault of emotions that followed. In that split second Coulson’s worst memories came to the surface.

Bright light flashed behind his eyes ..... He’s on the subway, happy, dad sat beside him. But the happiness quickly subsides, replace by deep seated fear. A man grabs his dad, throws him to the floor, kicks him, shouts, “Hand me your wallet, now!” Please don’t hurt him. He’s powerless, frozen in fear. The mugger kicks again, out of control, “Give it to me!” Suddenly there’s a gun ...... no, don’t .... please .... no .... there’s a loud explosion in his ears! ..... there’s blood, lots of it coating his dads shirt .... no ..... dad, dad! ........

Coulson came to, gasping for breath. He hadn’t thought of that memory in many years but the physical pain he felt now was as fresh as the moment it happened. He felt rage rising inside him but there was no time to process what had just happened, he had to protect May and the soldier was fast approaching. As he stood he took a blow that knocked the wind right out of him and sent him backwards. He could feel increasing levels of anger flash through him, rage pumping through his veins, he was losing control. 

“Aaaarhhhhh!” he screamed as he charged the soldier and struck him with the staff. He stumbled backwards but was still standing. He took a swing at Coulson who ducked and delivered a blow to the soldiers abdomen, followed by another to his head. This time he was down. At that moment he felt a boot in the back of his knee and dropped to the floor. It was quickly followed by a sharp pain in his ribs when another guard kicked him in the back. The staff fell from his grip. 

“No!” he gasped as he watched it roll away. Ignoring the pain he stood quickly and lashed out delivering several punches to his attacker, not giving him a chance to hit back. The soldier was laying bloody on the floor but Coulson repeatedly hit him, again and again, unable to control the rage inside him. 

“They’re in there!” he heard someone shout.

Coulson turned and saw two more soldiers approaching. He needed the staff! He crossed the room to where it had rolled and reached out to pick it up. For split second he hesitated, unsure of whether he could handle more than he was already feeling. But he knew he needed it. He had no choice. He grab it and tightened his grip .......

Another bright flash hit behind his eyes ........

Everything is dark .... its silent .....this feels different ....... everything feels different ....... this was wrong! Searing pain began to burn through every fibre of his being ...... every cell in his body twisting, changing ...... “don’t, stop, please stop! ..... “Aggghhhh!” he screams ..... no one listens..... he’s in agony .......”please, let me die, please let me die!” ...... he can’t go on ..... the pain is unbearable ...... “aagghhhh!” ......”let me die!” ......

Coulson couldn’t catch his breath. He was wringing wet with sweat and was shaking uncontrollably. He could feel the pain seeping out of every nerve ending in his body. “Please stop!” he cried again, still submerged deep in his worst memory. He attempted to regain his composure. It took all of his concentration to focus, remember where he was and what needed to be done. He had to protect May, at all cost. He ran at the soldiers, avoided a jab from the first one whilst sweeping the staff across his ankles knocking him to the floor. The second attacker punched him in the stomach and then the face. He stumbled sideways but quickly recovered and struck him in the throat with the staff, followed quickly with a strike to the head. The soldier fell to the ground motionless. He stood still for a moment, breathing fast, full of rage. He let the staff drop to the floor and turned round to the first attacker who was still laying there. He knelt down and grabbed him by the shirt and started to hit him, again and again, he couldn’t stop.

“Coulson!” 

Again he punched, blood showered him, his knuckles were raw, but he had to protect May.

“Coulson! ..... Phil!” 

He knew the voice that was making its way through the fog and confusion in his head. He turned, he was breathing hard, unable to catch his breath, exhausted. 

“Phil it’s ok, you can stop now!” shouted May.

May stood before him, looking groggy but awake. He stood up.

“May! What did they do to me?” he said shouted as he staggered towards her, still dazed and confused. 

He could see the concern in her eyes. He looked down at his hands, covered in blood. What had he done? It was for her, he had to keep her safe. He looked up again and their eyes met. The fog began to lift. He started to calm, she had that effect on him. He sucked air into his empty lungs and watched as she walked over to him. She put her hand on his shoulder which made him shudder as her touch somehow woke him from this nightmare. He whispered 

“Are you ok Melinda?” 

His legs could no longer take his weight and as he dropped to his knees she caught hold of him. His head hung low and he looked at the floor. She spoke gently in his ear,

“It’s ok Phil, I’m here, we’re safe now.”   
She lifted his head and as he looked at her tears fell down his face. He tried to speak but nothing came out. He was simply too exhausted. May held him tight and she could feel his muscles start to relax. At that moment Ward appeared in the doorway. 

“We need to get out of here, now!” he shouted and ran towards them.

As he approached he realised something was wrong. 

“Help me get him up!” shouted May. “I’ll explain later!”

With that Ward grabbed Coulson’s arm and took his weight across his shoulders, while May took the other arm. They practically dragged him out of the room as Coulson was barely able to stand. 

“ Skye, Fitz and Simmons? Are they ok?” demanded May.

“They’re safe, I got them back to the Bus as soon as trouble started” replied Ward.

May felt relieved that the rest of the team were safe. One less thing to worry about.

“Good. Now let’s get out of here!” she barked. 

They picked up the pace and by the time they reached the safety of the planes ramp Coulson was more alert and able to run by himself. May turned to Ward,

“Get Simmons to check him over, he held the Staff. We leaving now!” 

Ward looked at her, now he understood what had been wrong with Coulson. He was in no hurry to feel that way again. He shook the memory from his mind and led him off to the med bay. May left quickly for the cockpit and punched the ramp up button in frustration as she passed. All she wanted to do was stay with Coulson, hold him, make sure he was ok, but right now what she needed to do was fly the Bus and get them out of there fast.

X X X

May switched the controls over to autopilot and stood up a little too quickly. The head wound she’d received earlier had left her unsteady on her feet. It was still weeping and probably needed stitches but she had to check on Coulson. Right now he took priority. She knew only too well that he’d be feeling the residual effects from the Staff. But what worried her more was that he had recalled some of the memories Fury had tried so hard to conceal from him. She was unsure what effect it would have on his state of mind, something she had been briefed on when Fury first approached her for this mission. Coulson was totally unaware that May had been put on the Bus to watch over him and report back any unusual behaviour. She had accepted the task, not because Fury has ordered her to, but because she wanted to be close to Phil, keep him safe, she owed him that. The way she felt that day, after the battle of New York, when she’d first heard of his death, was the worst moment of her life. She had never felt such pain. That would not happen again, not while she was still breathing. She would give everything to protect him. She loved him.

May charged down the corridor towards his quarters, her heart pounding. 

“Well you can stop right there!” came a voice from behind. She turned round to see Simmons fast approaching from the direction of the med bay.

“That wound needs looking at and I’m not taking no for an answer!” she continued. 

“I’m fine,” May countered. “I don’t have time, I stop by later .....”

“You’ll come now!” interrupted Simmons. 

May had to admit she was impressed, Jemma had always seemed shy and retiring but she’d really stepped up during this mission and was not about to let May walk away before her head wound had been treated. As May approached her, Simmons now had quite a worried look on her face as it dawned on her who she’d just ordered around. But she stood her ground and May had to admire that. 

“Ok, but you’ve got 5 minutes! I need to speak to Coulson.” May barked. 

“Oh I’ve just finished checking him over. He had some bruising and a cracked rib. His heart rate was a little fast so I gave him a sedative and sent him to get cleaned up. I really think with a good night’s sleep he’ll be fine” said Jemma.

May conceded and they both walked back to the med bay, where Simmons gave her 3 stitches and patched the wound as quickly as she could, which wasn’t an easy task whilst she fidgeted, eager to leave. May thanked her and left without looking back. She hurried towards Phil’s room, trying to think of how she would field his questions without revealing the truth about his recovery. She hated lying to him, holding secrets, but it was all a necessary part of keeping him safe. Fury had explained the lengths taken to save Coulson, extraordinary and unorthodox methods involving an alien drug, GH325, which had only really been in test stages at the time of his death. Test patients had initially showed a remarkable recovery rate but later began to show signs of hypergraphia, paranoia and aphasia when the awareness of what had happened to them became clear. Memory alteration had been the only treatment that seemed to help, but with the project still in experimental stages there was no way to predict the outcome should they ever recall their memories.

When she got to his door she stopped in her tracks and took a moment to compose herself. With a deep breath she walked in. She looked round the darkened room and noticed his jacket left across the end of the bed. His tie lay on the floor next to his shoes and socks. The only light was coming from the bathroom where the door was left ajar. She could hear the shower running. 

“Phil?” she called out gently. No answer. “Phil?” 

She made her way across the room and glanced in. He was standing, staring in the mirror, hunched over, his weight supported by both hands on the sink. His stained shirt was unbuttoned and she could see the dried blood stuck to his skin, sprayed across his face and chest. He hadn’t even noticed her enter the room. He just stood there trembling, staring into the mirror as if it was able to give him answers. She watched him lift his hand towards his scar, hesitate for a moment and then allowed the tips of his fingers to trace the ridges. May entered the bathroom.

“Phil”. Nothing.

She reached out and gently touched his arm which made him jump and snatched him out of his thoughts. He quickly dropped his arm to his side when he realised she was watching. Still facing the mirror Coulson was now looking at her. She could see anger in his eyes and notice the muscle in his cheek twitching as he clenched down on his jaw. He was breathing heavily and she noticed beads of sweat tracing his face. 

“What did they do to me May, what did they give me!” he spat at her. “The Staff, it showed me things, things I’d forgotten. That room, the doctors” he paused for a moment, “the pain! That machine, why was it messing with my brain!” he screamed. He drew back his fist and with all of his strength he punched the mirror. It smashed and shards fell to the floor close to his bare feet. He turned and moved towards May, looking more desperate and angry than she had ever seen him. His fist was split and bleeding and he didn’t even blink as he walked over the glass, cutting his feet as he approached.

“Stop Phil, you’re feet, the glass!” She cried as she held her hands to his chest to try stop him from doing any more damage. But he pushed her aside with such force that it caught her off balance and she slipped on the tiled floor. She slammed into the wall and dropped to her knees. He rushed out of the bathroom and headed for his desk. He swept everything from its surface which then crashed to the floor. 

“Why did they do this! Why did they lie!” he shouted as he swung round, ripped his Shield Certification from the wall and threw it to the floor smashing it to pieces. He was about to pick up a chair to throw when May stepped in and grabbed him by the arms. 

“Stop! That’s enough!” she screamed as she pushed him backwards against the wall. His breathing was laboured and he struggled to free himself from her grip. 

“Enough!” she shouted as she held him tighter, looking straight at him, trying to connect. He stopped in his tracks and she could see the suddenly realisation of what he’d just done show in the expression across face. Phil glanced round the room and then squeezed his eyes shut, in an attempt to hide from the shame he now felt. At his loss of control. He opened them again at looked back at her.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry May, did I hurt you?” he begged, “I don’t know what ...”

“I’m fine Phil, I’m not hurt” she whispered. He shook his head and turned away. His shoulders dropped, his breathing slowed and she could see he was exhausted. As the energy ebbed out of him she felt his resistance fall way. 

“Look at me.” she said quietly, but he couldn’t. 

“For gods sake Phil, look at me!” 

Slowly he tilted his head and for a moment they looked silently at each other. His eyes welled and a single tear fell down his cheek. She wanted to tell him everything, comfort him, hold him. Tell him it would all be fine, that she would stay with him always, protect him. Love him. But how could she, how could he feel the same, it would change everything. She’d have to leave. Instead she cupped his face with her hand and wiped away the tear with her thumb.   
“I’m here, you’re safe, you’re alive. We’ll work through it, together. We’ll find out the truth and we’ll deal with it, together. 

“Melinda ....” he rasped, but could manage no more. He lay his head on her shoulder and let himself sink into her arms. He felt safe, secure, like he always did when he was with her. She would always stand by him, have his back, of that he was sure. He trusted her. He loved her. 

They stood there silently holding one another, not knowing how long for, both comforting, both loving each other. Eventually Phil spoke,

“No more secrets Melinda, no more lies.”

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to SassyCassy1401 for being my beta and inspiration!


End file.
